


Dropping In

by thinkwritexpress



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dom Drop, F/M, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2020, domme drop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23594836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkwritexpress/pseuds/thinkwritexpress
Summary: As a professional dominatrix, Sam Winchester is your ideal client. One day you can’t hold up your act, and later, you both get a surprise that leaves you wondering: Can you two still make your relationship work?
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo 2020





	1. Chapter 1

Emotions are turbulent, though you try to be numb, to put everything under a blanket so you can handle daily life. You’re not depressed, you just… have a lot of emotions with no real healthy outlet. That’s why you’d turned to BDSM and the femdomme life.

Being a dominant in a dynamic is a heady experience, and you get to feel truly in control of  _ some _ part of your life. Bringing a stubborn man into submission is its own kind of high, although most of the time it seems like your uniform does most of the work for you. Who knew a black corset and a tight pencil skirt could do more work than a riding crop ever could! 

Sam Winchester, a surprise but repeat client, submits easily. Sometimes it feels like Sam needs to let go so much more than you need control, but that never stops the sessions, thankfully. Truth be told, Sam’s your favorite client.

He’s rarely afraid to try new things, has even indulged in some of your more dangerous curiosities - knifeplay, for example - but he knows his limits and yours and isn’t afraid to safeword. Sometimes he safewords before the session even starts, and instead of dominating Sam, you two talk like old friends. He’s still a bit cagey when it comes to his job, but you respect his privacy like he respects yours.

Today’s session with Sam wasn’t meant to be anything out of the ordinary, but something about the way he responds - his tone, his body language - has you safewording, gasping out “Leviathan” before sinking to your knees, trying to keep your panic attack at bay, dropping from your dom headspace faster than you’d experienced before. 

Sam wraps your robe round you then sits in front of you, his knees touching yours. “Tell me what to do (Y/N),” he whispers, and it’s all you can do to breathe out a reply:

“Care box, under the bed.” You point weakly, but you’re too out of it to do much more.

Sam’s in motion faster than you register, and he’s not gone from your side long, placing the open box in front of you. 

“I’m here for you (Y/N),” he murmured, “just tell me what I can do.” 

Part of you recognizes that Sam might also be dropping, and you’re still the caretaker here, but you push those thoughts aside, crawling into Sam’s lap, seeking comfort in the large man’s arms.

Sam holds you close and brings the care box to him, pulling out the bottle of Gatorade and the candy. “Need you to eat this stuff, please (Y/N).” Sam’s gentle coaxing brings you enough to your senses that you listen, drinking and eating, the sugar helping to ground you. “You’re doing so good (Y/N), I’m so proud of you.” Sam continues his soft words of comfort, guiding you out of your dom drop and providing you a safe space to come back to yourself. 

After you finish the Gatorade, you turn and give Sam a kiss on the cheek, feeling much steadier. “Thank you, Sam, for taking care of me. I’m sorry we had to cut the session short. How are you doing? I realize you might be experiencing some headspace drop too…” you trail off, looking uncertain, and Sam smiles softly.

“I’m okay (Y/N), helping you through it helped me through it. Don’t feel bad about the session, your health and safety are far more important than me getting my rocks off.” He’s so gentle with you that your heart aches. What you wouldn’t give to be treated like this all the time and have all your clients be like Sam.

“You’re so good to me, Sam. I wish all my clients were like you.” Talking about other clients isn’t something you do, ever, but your thoughts slip out before you can stop them. Sam only looks a little surprised, but also very bashful.

“I’m nothing special, (Y/N). I just treat ya like I was taught to treat someone precious to me. I… I wish, sometimes, I could persuade you to let me be your only client, but I know that’s not fair to ask… Just know it’s always a thought.”

You’re speechless, cycling between happiness and surprise and satisfaction. Sam watches you apprehensively, his guard halfway up, and you realize you haven’t responded in a timely manner.

“Oh Sam, having just you would be great, if…” You trail off, looking at your hands. How can you explain to Sam that it’s easier for you - and safer for everyone - for you to not have any true attachments?

Sam nods while you search for the words. “I know. There’s stuff on my side keeping me from asking you, and there’s stuff in your life too. Don’t feel bad, I just… I wanted you to know you’re appreciated and cared for, and for more than the services you provide.” Sam gives you a wry smile and you chuckle, nodding too. 

“I’m truly sorry Sam. If things were different… If our lives were different, maybe we’d end up together. But we shouldn’t focus on the ifs, just the nows.” 

Sam starts to reply but his phone goes off, startling you two. You crawl out of Sam’s lap and you both stand up, him answering his phone while you clean up, and you two get dressed. He’s talking in hushed tones, so you do your best to ignore him, checking your phone instead. More news articles about the dead cattle and people in nearby towns, the locations getting closer to yours. With a frown, you forward the links to your friend, a hunter of the supernatural who has been teaching you to hunt, with the caption “Now is it a case?” and as you wait for a response, you continue reading the articles, doing what research you can from your phone.

Sam saying “Goodbye, Dean,” at normal volume pulls your attention from your phone to him, and you smile knowingly. 

“Brother giving you trouble?”

“Yeah,” Sam chuckles, rolling his eyes, “he’s got a gig for us and needs my help prepping. I’m sorry I have to leave, but I’m really glad you’re feeling better (Y/N). I’ll try to set up another session before we leave town.” Sam kisses your forehead then stuffs payment in your fingers, hurrying out the door amidst your protests.

When the door clicks shut behind him, you plop on the bed and look at the bills, eyes growing wide as you count. He doubled your usual rate, even though you’d barely done anything! You shoot Sam a text, flustered, “You paid me too much, mister moose!” and when your phone buzzes again not even a minute after you set it down, you expect it to be Sam, but it’s your hunter friend Stacy instead. 

“Yup, it’s a case. I can’t help, on a different hunt, but I’ll get help sent your way. Be careful.”

You’re nervous about doing the case without her, but knowing help is coming, you feel a little relieved. “Send them to the bar so we can plan over food.” You reply, then pack up, knowing you need to get dressed for a hunt and get all your research together. The better prepared you are to brief your backup, the faster the hunt can be finished.

You walk into the bar and scout out a table, organizing your stuff then ordering a drink and food, settling in to wait. Keeping an eye on the door, you try to guess who your backup is, but everyone you think it is doesn’t even look your way. Eventually you give up and go over your research again, and you don’t look up until someone knocks on your table, pulling your attention to a tall, freckle-faced man with a cocky grin. “Are you (Y/N)? Garth said to tell you Stacy sent us.” Hearing Stacy’s name, it clicks, and you smirk at the man.

“So you’re the help?” You ask, one eyebrow raised. As a domme, you can handle cocky men, and you’re ready to sass the man in front of you until the last person you expect to see steps into your sight. 

“Sam Winchester?”


	2. Some Things Change... Some Stay the Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the reveal that you and Sam are both hunters, can your relationship be repaired, or will things crumble to pieces faster than a well-baked pie?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also day 16 of Kinktober!   
> Square filled: Sub!Sam   
> Ship: Sam Winchester x female!reader  
> Rating: T  
> Tags/warnings: angst, awkward conversations, Dean's actually the conversationalist,  
> Summary: After the reveal that you and Sam are both hunters, can your relationship be repaired, or will things crumble to pieces faster than a well-baked pie?  
> Word count: 947  
> created for @spnkinkbingo

Seeing Sam Winchester on his knees in front of you is a heady, exhilarating sight. It’s your favorite gift. 

You hadn’t thought that he would ever be interested in being a submissive, being  _ your _ submissive, but somehow that’s exactly what had happened. 

Of course, running into him in a hunter aspect wasn’t anything you’d expected.

Sam stares at you, confused and a bit hurt, as the gaze of his brother Dean flicks between the two of you. 

You stare at your research, flipping through the papers, doing anything but looking at Sam. You’re so off your game, you don’t know what to say. 

Sure, you’ve run into other clients out in the real world, but this was the  _ supernatural _ world. You can switch personas between domme and daily person, but between daily person and hunter the line blurs, and you’re stumbling, fumbling, completely without your footing. 

“So, you and Sam, uh, know each other?” 

It’s the wrong thing to say, because Sam snorts, you flinch, and Dean lets out a  _ tsk _ noise at your reactions.

“Obviously, Dean. Let’s focus on this case.” Sam’s dismissive, and you try not to let it hurt, but you’re frustrated as well - he’d kept his hunter life secret. Though it makes sense - you can’t just  _ tell  _ normal people that everything that goes bump in the night is real - you thought you knew everything about him, and finding out that’s not true, that part of your relationship was faked… it doesn’t sit right.

Clearing your throat, you push over your research and start talking about the case, pushing yourself to be professional and civil. 

The meeting goes smoothly, overall, and Dean keeps the discussion going, asking questions and pulling as much information about the case as possible. 

“We can cover the fighting, you go ahead and stay back.” Dean’s words make you bristle - you’re not incompetent or una ble to hunt - but Sam’s nodding, and you don’t want to make things worse than they are, so you agree, and that’s that. You wish the boys a goodnight and give them your personal number in case they need anything, then go your separate ways.

If you stare at your phone waiting for any update from the Winchesters, well, nobody can prove that. 

Dean messages you a few hours later with an “all clear” and you think that’s the end - it doesn’t seem like Sam wants to talk to you, so you resign yourself to never hearing from him again, disappointed but understanding. A chapter of your story closing.

Until there’s a knock at your door, thirty minutes later.

Opening the door, Sam’s standing on the other side, freshly-showered and only a little nervous, flowers in-hand. 

“Hi. I uh, think we have a lot to talk about.” 

You give a mirthless laugh and nod, stepping back and allowing him in. He starts talking as he’s undressing, taking his jacket and shoes off.

“So I realize neither of us really know certain things about each other, and I know that impacts our type of relationship, so I figured I should probably explain some things.” 

You lead him to your kitchen, setting the coffee maker to work and settling down on the counter, smiling cautiously at Sam, waiting for him to continue.

He settles on his knees in front of you, hands palm-up on his thighs, a submissive posture if ever you’ve seen one. 

“Sam?” Your brow furrows and you cock your head, confused and looking for an explanation.

“I- you- we -” He lets out a frustrated huff then takes a deep breath, starting over. “Living life as a hunter is difficult. As I’m sure you know. We can’t tell people what we do, for so many reasons. It’s dangerous, it’s hard to believe, all of that. I also like to keep those I care for safe and as out of this as possible. I… don’t have the best past with relationships being involved in the life, which is why I try to keep as many people out as possible. It’s why I didn’t tell you anything.”

He’s still sitting there and you’re not sure what to say. Of course you understand that, and you sigh, nodding. “I get it. I, uh, lost my family to vampires, and Stacy recently helped me get revenge. But I didn’t believe her at first - vampires seem so unbelievable until she gave me proof. I… it’s why I didn’t share it with you either.”

You both stare at each other quietly, not sure where to go next, until the coffee pot dings, signaling it’s done.

You hop off the counter and pour you both a mug, and then settle down on the ground next to him. “What a pair we are, huh?”

Sam laughs now, loudly, nodding enthusiastically. “Oh, what a pair indeed.” 

You both drink your coffee quietly, lost in your own thoughts, and then Sam clears his throat. “Can we still do… all of this? Now that we both know, it’ll make explaining some things easier, and… and there’s nobody else I’d rather dominate me than you.” The last part is hesitant and Sam blushes deeply, eyes on the ground.

You take a moment to consider the consequences, how things could go horribly wrong, but then you turn toward the positive side of things, how  _ right  _ things could go, and it cements the decision in your heart.

“Of course Sam, there’s none whose submission is quite as precious as yours.” You stand carefully, wincing at your body’s protest, and smile when Sam remains on the floor, looking up at you. 

Seeing Sam Winchester on his knees in front of you is a heady, exhilarating sight. It’s your favorite gift. 


End file.
